It's Not a Wonderful Life
by Princess Lucy
Summary: First the children are orphaned,then they become homeless. Can the Pevensies survive the streets of New York.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is going to be a sequel to "A Changed World" and takes place seven months later; the children are in America in an orphanage.**

_**  
Chapter one:**_

Peter stared out the window at the falling snow.

It wasn't soft and white like Narnian snow or even English snow; no, here in the grimy streets of New York, the snow was gray before it hit the streets. It couldn't be called proper snow - it was more like slush really.

It had been seven months, seven months since their arrest, imprisonment, release, and eventual escape from Europe to America. They were in a orphanage in the middle of New York City. It wasn't exactly a terrible place, they weren't being beaten or starved or overworked and the nuns were kind…it just wasn't home.

The door to the dormitory opened and Edmund and Lucy came in. Lucy had been crying, Peter could tell by her red eyes. Sometimes it was hard to remember they were back to being children again. Peter moved away from the window and went over to his younger siblings.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Edmund bit his lip, "Same thing as before, the older boys won't stop teasing her. I tried to get them to stop, but they just laugh."

Peter pressed his lips in a tight line and then said softly, "Don't cry, Lu. I'll see what I can do," he promised as Susan came in a book under her arm.

"There you all are,Mother Higgins has requested us to come down for lunch,Lucy wash your face" she instructed the younger girl

The four of them went down to the dining hall. The other orphans all stopped eating and stared at them as they sat down.

"I wish they'd quit staring at us," Susan whispered as she stared at her plate.

They still weren't used to American food, by any means.Americans ate strange foods; on their plates were vegetables, some white specks, and what looked like beef.the food was cooked differently in America .In England their mother boiled their dinner in one pot or they had fry-ups,Americans on the other hand broiled and baked their food or at least that's what the cooks at the orphanage did.

"I don't want to be an oddity!" Susan complained as Lucy twisted in her seat and did a very unqueenly thing ,she stuck her tongue out at one of the older orphans who was staring at the four of them rudely.

Peter saw her.

"Lucy!" he scolded.

Edmund snickered and Susan sighed.

"You know what tomorrow is, don't you?" she asked.

"Saturday," Edmund said glumly.

They hated Saturday, for Saturday was Adoption Day. Prospective parents came and observed the orphans. No one wanted to take on the responsibility of four children and they didn't want to be separated again, so no one had won.

If they could make themselves scarce they would, but Mother Higgins wanted all the children downstairs when prospective parents came.

"Maybe we'll get lucky," Peter said, even though deep down inside he knew it would take a miracle for the four of them to be able to stay together.


	2. Chapter 2

Discalimer(Which should have been in the first chapter,but oh well) I own nothing from the world of C

**Disclaimer: (Which should have been in the first chapter, but oh well) I own nothing from the world of C.S. Lewis. **

_**Chapter two **_

Saturday promised to be a perfect sunny day. In the morning after breakfasts the orphans cleaned up the orphanage. Around lunchtime prospective parents came trickling in; some were old some, were young, some looked rich with the women bedecked in fur coats.

They walked among the tables talking to different children. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy didn't look up, for months of rejection had taught them that prospective parents didn't look twice at them. Once, yes – twice, no.

Several adults left with a few of the orphans, who looked as if they had just been given the keys to a toy and candy store. They were shocked when a woman came up to them - she was not young but not old either; she seemed to be in her mid-thirties but looked younger.

Her red hair was styled into a French braid, the end tied with a light pink ribbon. She wore a light pink skirt and jacket with a cream-colored blouse. She smiled at them.

"Well, now, how would you four like to come live with my husband and me?" she asked.

They looked at each other, and then Peter said, "We won't be separated again; you have to take all four of us or else we can't."

The woman nodded and said she'd talk it over with her husband.

As soon as she left, Edmund said, "They'll probably say 'Sorry, but we can't take all four of you.'"

No one disagreed with him.

Since they weren't expecting to be adopted, they weren't expecting Mother Higgins to call them into her office Sunday after church services ended. And when she told them that the Taylors wanted to adopt them, they were wary.

"All four of us, why?" Susan asked. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but after seven months of disappointments, they weren't about to get their hopes up again. Mother Higgins smiled serenely.

"They apparently have a lot of room and they're very lonely. The Lord works in mysterious ways," she quoted. "They will be here on Monday to pick you up if you want to be adopted by them. Of course, you might not get another chance at a new life," she warned them, looking from one child to the other.

They sat there - it was a chance at a new life and they'd be together. They'd have a mother and father again.

There was no hesitation in their voices when they said "Yes."

The next day, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor arrived. They insisted the children call them Brett and Patricia, and they were, as Patricia put it, eager for the children to begin their new lives.

This was the first time they had set eyes on Mr. Taylor. He was a debonair-looking man, a cross between Humphrey Bogart and Clark Gable. He had salt and pepper hair, but it didn't make him look old; it made him look distinguished rather.

Patricia turned to them.

"Why don't the five of us get better acquainted," she said, "While Brett signs the papers."

The four of them looked at each other and then at her before standing up and heading out the door.

"Tell me everything about yourselves," Patricia demanded like a child demanding a story, "The minute I saw you, I thought to my self, 'Why not adopt those poor unfortunate children.' Not that I mean you four are unfortunate, not by any means," she quickly smiled.

They told her about themselves, skipping as always over Narnia, and Patricia shook her head several times and uttered "Poor dears" other times.

Brett came out at last.

"Why don't you four pack and we'll be on our way," he said.

"Pack what? We barely have anything, just the uniforms the orphanage provides us and our pajamas,' Edmund stated.

Patricia waved her hand as if his words were bothersome flies.

"Leave all that here, first stop is Macy's!" she cried.

They were led toward a waiting car, a Rolls-Royce by the looks of it. Patricia wasn't kidding when she said they'd go to Macy's first. The owner seemed to know the Taylors and the salespeople followed them around. Since the Blitz began, they had not had brand -new clothes.

Patricia didn't even look at the prices but just said yes or no, and when they were through, seven salesmen followed them out each carrying ten or twelve boxes each! But they weren't done yet, for next they went to Bloomingdales.

There too the owner seemed to know them and again they were followed around. Finally after what seemed like hours, Patricia announced they were done.

"We can always come back and get other stuff, but I think you're set," she said as Johnson (the chauffeur) started up the car.

When they got to the house, they just stared. It was big – bigger than Professor Kirke's house, not as big as Cair Paravel obviously but a close second. The mansion was a cream colored plantation style mansion with two Greek columns supporting the roof. Each of the upper rooms had a balcony, the outside was expansive with a sprawling lawn, hedges, rosebushes, and even a pool. In the back was a guesthouse.

"Come along," Patricia urged. "Plenty time to see it all later."

As if by magic several servants appeared, taking the boxes out of the car and heading toward the house. A uniformed butler appeared on the top step. Lucy looked back to see the car back out of the drive and Brett in the back seat. She lifted her hand to wave, and he waved back.

Lucy hurried to catch up. She reached the top step in time to hear the butler say "Good evening, Madam," stepping back to let them enter.

Patricia nodded as her coat was taken, she picked up a little silver bell on a nearby table and rang it. Servants came from all different parts of the house. When everyone was gathered, Patricia cleared her throat.

"I would like you all to welcome the Pevensie children; they have been adopted by Brett and me."

She turned to the four of them.

"Anything you need or even want don't hesitate to ask any of the servants. You're royalty now," she said.

The four of them exchanged a conspiratorial glance and hid smiles as they followed their new mother up the carpeted staircase to their new rooms.

Each room had a four-poster bed, dressers, walk-in closets, plush carpet, a balcony, bookcases full of books (or in Lucy's case toys and dolls). Then she showed them the bathrooms they each had of their own. The floors were tile and each bathroom had a sunken bath and separate shower.

"Why don't you get comfortable? Your new clothes have been put away already, and dinner will be in a couple of hours. Is there anything in particular you four want?" she asked them, waiting for their answer.

"No, we're fine," Peter answered for all of them.

Patricia smiled. "Good, I do hope you'll be happy here," she said before heading downstairs.

And a bit later they went downstairs to begin their new life with their new parents.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter two

_**Chapter two**_

The beds were soft, that was the first thing Lucy noticed when she woke up. It was like sinking into a cloud. She sat up and threw her covers off. The door opened and a uniformed maid came in, holding firewood. Lucy watched with interest as she started a roaring fire.

"Would you like me to pick out an outfit, Miss?" the girl asked.

Lucy shook her head.

"I can do it, thank you," she said, climbing out of bed (literally, the bed was that high up).

She threw on a dress and socks and burst into Peter's room. She climbed up on his bed and jumped up and down.

"Come on, wake up!" she cried excitedly and jumped off the bed to go torture Susan and Edmund.

When they went downstairs and into the dining room, only Brett was present. He was drinking coffee and eating a piece of toast.

"Patricia rises late on weekends - anything you want Mrs. Cukor to make you for breakfast, just ask her," he said. "I'm afraid I 'm not familiar with what British children like to eat," he added apologetically.

"Do you have baked beans?" Lucy asked, sitting down.

Brett looked at the other three children.

"She likes them on toast," Edmund explained.

Brett nodded.

"I'll ask. Anything else?" he asked, standing up.

"Just tell her we would like eggs and sausages, that's all," Susan replied.

Brett went to tell Mrs. Cukor what to cook for their breakfast. They sat there looking around the dining room. The oak table could easily seat a hundred people, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling

"Why do they have such a huge table if there's only two of them?" Lucy wondered.

"We did at Cair Paravel," Edmund reminded her, "but you're right, this table is huge. How do you talk to people on the other side?"

Lucy giggled.

"Maybe they shout!" she said.

Susan and Peter rolled their eyes.

"I can't imagine them shouting," Susan said.

"Good morning!" Patricia sang, breezing into the room, "I do hope you slept well!"

They assured her that they had.

"Good, now we must talk about your schooling and lessons," she said, sinking into a chair gracefully.

They looked at each other, and then Peter said, "What lessons?"

Patricia laughed a tinkling little laugh,

"Your music lessons, of course!"

"Oh," Peter said.

Patricia smiled. "You'll see, you'll have every advantage your poor parents couldn't give you."

They weren't sure what to say when she said that.

New York was so different from Finchley. For one thing it was noisier; cars whizzed past and there were more people, pushing and jostling one another. They ducked into a soda shoppe - it seemed to be a popular place for teenagers to hang out, for several were grouped around a jukebox.

A young man stood behind the counter wiping the black and white marble countertop and flirting with the girls who were perched on the stools sipping ice cream sodas.

The man looked up. " May I help you?" he asked as they approached the counter.

His eyes lingered on Susan until Peter glared at him.

"We have ice cream sodas," he continued when they didn't answer.

"What are those?" Susan asked, for ice cream sodas weren't exactly rampant in England.

One of the girls a pretty brunette turned around.

"You're from England, how quaint!" she and her friends giggled. "My name's Grace Eston, and these are my friends Bridgett Mason and Kathleen Patterson."

Bridgett was a heavy-set girl with light blonde hair and soft blue eyes; she had a warm smile. Kathleen had aristocratic features.

"Of the new York Pattersons," she said importantly.

"I'm thirsty," Lucy said suddenly.

"Water fountains are in the back," the young man said.

"Thank you," Lucy said and headed toward the back.

There were two fountains, one marked "Whites Only" the other marked "Coloreds Only." Lucy didn't see what the difference was and bent her head to drink. Suddenly she was pulled away by a pair of hands. She turned around to see a woman staring at her a look of disbelief on her face.

"Little girl, do you know how to read?" she asked taking out a handkerchief and forcefully wiping Lucy's mouth. Lucy winced. "That water fountain is for colored folks only; you keep that in mind unless you want to get a disease. I'm surprised your mother hasn't taught you better!" the woman continued.

Lucy was utterly confused - why did they have separate fountains anyway?

"Did you know there's two fountains back there?" she said when she went back up front.

"Are there? Why?" Edmund asked.

"Ones for blacks, ones for whites," Bridgett explained. "Which one did you drink out of?" she asked.

Lucy pointed to the fountain on the left, and everyone nearby stared at her.

"Ugh," Kathleen wrinkled her pert nose.

"Is that what they do in England? Aren't you afraid of getting a disease?" she asked.

Peter stared at her.

"What disease would she possibly get?" he asked coldly.

Everyone made a wide path as they left the soda shoppe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Need I remind you guys, I don't own Peter, Susan, Edmund, or Lucy. I do own everyone else though.**

_**Chapter four**_

Tuesday morning Patricia announced that she would enroll them in school.

"I suspect your education hasn't been smooth," she said as Johnson drove toward the school.

While they were riding, Patricia talked about the school.

"It's a prestigious school for New York's finest families," she said. "Of course it might take a while for the other students to accept you."

"Why would it?" Peter asked critically.

Patricia smiled.

"Well, given your background…never mind, just don't tell them orphans we'll say your mother's a friend of mine and you're here because she thinks it's safer than England," she said, sitting back against the leather seat.

The four of them looked askance - their new mother was telling them to start their school year with a boldfaced lie. But before they could question her reasons, Johnson pulled up in front of the school.

It didn't look like a school though - it looked like a mini hotel! The grass gleamed in the sunlight like a sparkling emerald, two trees were stationed on each side of the four story stucco building like sentries, there was a tennis court in the back - at least that's what Patricia told them as they climbed up the steps leading into the school.

The inside was even more impressive. The floor was polished brown and white swirled marble, and on the walls were portraits of past presidents and principals. The windows were gleaming, the curved staircase had a mahogany banister that looked as if it had been recently polished, and there was even carpet!

"Don't gape," Patricia whispered as they came to a door marked "Principal." She knocked on the door gently and it swung open to reveal a tall, elegant woman with gray hair pulled back in a tight bun, not one strand out of place.

She wore a gray pinstriped suit with a white blouse underneath; the sleeves were frilly, as was the collar. She nodded at Patricia and the children.

"Are these the children?" she asked, indicating a black leather couch.

They sat down and Patricia nodded. The woman pursed her lips, her eyes appraising the four of them.

"Normally, we don't accept students two months after the school year begins, but as a favour to your new mother we decided to make an exception," she said.

Patricia looked at them.

"I do hope you appreciate what Mrs. Winston just did," she said.

Mrs. Winston's brown eyes became warm when Patricia said that.

"I'm sure they are. Why don't I talk to the children alone and they could start school today?" she suggested.

Patricia stood up.

"I'll have Johnson pick you up at three," she said.

"We could walk or take the bus home," Peter said; they did that back home.

Patricia looked at him.

"No, Johnson will be here. Have a good day," she said, heading out.

They turned to Mrs. Winston; her eyes become cold and critical she sat behind her desk.

"Like I said earlier, we don't accept students two months late. This is a very prestigious school with a year-long waiting list. Of course, given your unfortunate background, I have no choice but to have you on a probation trial of two weeks," she said.

Her words hit them like a slap in the face. They sat there silently as Mrs. Winston laid down the rules and told them what grades they were to be in - to their chagrin, she had put them a year or two year behind.

"But we're not in those grades," Susan sputtered when she saw her class schedule - she was put in the eighth grade, Peter ninth grade, Edmund fifth grade, and Lucy back in second grade.

"You haven't been in a proper school in months, so for now you will be in these grades," she said, the matter closed.

**A/N I will have a chapter where there in school,just not now,maybe in two more chapters**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter six

_**Chapter six**_

When they got home, they found Patricia waiting for them.

"You girls start your piano lessons today. Lucy, dear, you're first," she said.

Lucy looked longingly outside - she'd much rather be outside than inside, but she bit her tongue and followed Patricia into the music room. It was all white; white carpet, white sofas and chairs, and on a raised dais was a grand piano. A woman sat there. She stood up, and her features seemed to be molded from porcelain, her cheekbones high. She looked at Lucy.

"Hold out your hands," she instructed.

Confused, Lucy did so, and the woman examined them.

"Hmmph, she's not a born piano player - her fingers aren't long enough. Well, let's see what we can do. Take a seat," she instructed.

Lucy sat on the bench, but her feet didn't quite touch the floor and she wriggled trying to get comfortable.

"Goodness! Child, can't you sit still?" Miss Hadler demanded fifteen minutes later.

Lucy forced herself to sit still the rest of the time and was glad when her hour was up and Patricia came in.

"How did it go?" she asked, expecting good news.

Miss Hadler frowned.

"I do hope her older sister is not as terrible as this child is. I have never seen a more incompetent child - send the other girl in."

Patricia left and came back in with Susan. Susan sat down, and unlike Lucy, Susan was quite good at the piano and could pick out music just like that. Miss Hadler was pleasantly surprised.

"Now that's much better, you play quite well."

"How'd it go?" Peter asked Lucy.

He and Edmund were by the pool. Lucy took off her shoes and socks and dangled her feet in the water, tilting her head to the side.

"She said I was inc-" she furrowed her brow and tried again, "Inc-incom -"

"Incompetent?" Peter supplied, and Lucy nodded.

"Why would she say that?" Edmund wondered.

Lucy shrugged.

"I hate the piano - I'd rather play the flute. Mr.Tumnus taught me; I know how to play three songs."

She stared at her legs in the water and squinted at her brothers.

"Do you miss them?" she asked.

"Miss who?" Peter asked.

"Mummy and Daddy," she said softly.

Peter and Edmund exchanged a glance.

"Of course we do, Lulu" he said, using his pet name for her. "Sometimes I still think they're going to come back, but I know it's not going to happen."

The door opened and Susan came out and sat down on the chaise lounge, her feet tucked up under her. She looked out at the pool, a longing look in her eyes. She missed swimming - in England the public pool was closed and when Germany took over, they weren't allowed back. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Susan," Edmund said, looking at her. "Why do you look like that?"

Susan blinked at him.

"Like what, Ed?" she asked.

"That, like you're missing something. You looked that way when we got back from Narnia."

Susan forced a smile on her face.

"Did I?" she asked.

Patricia came out, "Well, isn't this nice, I do hope you children are happy here?" she asked, the veiled threat beneath the words hidden behind her smile._ Do as we want and say or this happiness will be cut short._

"Yes, we are, Patricia," they said.

Patricia nodded. "Good, good. Now I wanted to let the four of you know some friends of ours will be coming for dinner, so go up and get ready and be on your best behaviour," she instructed.

The guests were a husband, wife, and their twenty-year-old son Rupert. Their names were Sanford and Cecilie. She looked at the four of them.

"I do hope you children are grateful for all Patricia and Brett have done for you," she said, peering at them. She didn't wait for an answer but just turned to Patricia. "Young people nowadays have no manners, especially orphans." She looked at them pointedly.

Rupert crossed his legs, his ankle resting at his knee.

"That ain't true, Ma, I'm sure these orphans have manners. Least, I think the girls do."

He winked at Susan who blushed. Peter gave him a look, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Patricia stood up.

"I'll just go see how much longer the dinner will take. Why don't you all get better acquainted?" she said, heading out. Cecilie looked at them.

"You, orphan," she looked at Peter.

"It's _Peter,_" he said, "and don't call us that!"

"Young man, never contradict your elders. Your parents are dead, are they not?" she pressed.

"Yes, but -" Peter started to say.

"Then by definition you are orphans living off the charity and kindness of the Taylors," she continued, ignoring the looks of shock and grief in the children's eyes. "If I were the Taylors I would make you earn your keep," Cecilie continued. " I'm sure your mother was unfit to take care of you and did you even have a father?" she continued, picking up her glass of wine and draining it in half a gulp.

"Shut up." Peter whispered the words out of his mouth before he could snatch them back.

Lucy was crying silently, her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth. Susan embraced herself as if she were cold, and Edmund stared at Cecilie, a look of anger and disbelief in his eyes. Peter shook with rage - to hear their parents talked about like that was worse than being hit.

"Our parents were the best parents and you don't know anything about them!"

He stood up and the others did the same, following him up the curved staircase and into Peter's room. They sat on his bed, and Susan stroked Lucy's hair.

"How could she say that about Mum and Dad!" Edmund raged.

Peter was standing at the window staring out.

"Because she's ignorant!" Susan said.

They stayed all through dinner and when they heard the guests leave they were about to go downstairs when the door opened and Patricia came in, looking very upset.

"The Endersons are very important clients - how dare you embarrass me like that!" she demanded.

"She insulted us!" Peter said, only telling half the story, the bit about Mum and Dad still stung.

Patricia frowned.

"That is no excuse. I'm sure she was just being helpful; children nowadays are so overly dramatic."

She shook her head and left the room. They stared after her, realizing that they couldn't defend their actions now, for their new parents were high up in society and if a few grown-ups saw fit to insult them they were going to have to pretend it never happened.

For the first time, they found themselves hating their new life. All the money in the world wasn't going to make up for what they needed the most - a mother who didn't care about how she looked in society papers, one who kissed and hugged them and wiped tears away. They needed a father who wasn't more concerned about his career; they only saw Brett once in a while, and Patricia was too concerned about molding and shaping them into the perfect Little Taylors to really listen to what they needed.


	6. Chapter 6

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_**Chapter six**_

Wednesday, Patricia wanted to know whom they were friends with.

"I do hope you're friends with children of prestige," she said as they ate breakfast. "Brett and I are well known in society."

They finished their breakfast silently, never dreaming anyone would tell them whom to be friends with. Johnson was waiting by the car when they came out, and Peter went up to him.

"We're going to walk today," he informed the chauffeur.

Johnson tipped his hat.

"Very good, sir," was all he said before shutting the car door and sauntering toward the back.

When they got to school, they noticed the students were looking at them curiously.

"Don't you have a driver?" a boy about Susan's age demanded as they climbed the steps leading into the school.

"Yes, so?" Peter asked.

Everyone exchanged looks and then Kathleen spoke up.

"The point of a driver is for him to take you places so you don't have to walk."

"We like walking - it's good exercise," Susan said.

Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she took Lucy's hand and the four of them marched into the school, leaving the other students to stare at them mouths agape . Once inside they separated; Lucy and Edmund went up to the second floor and Susan and Peter went to the third floor. The students who were outside were now inside, talking and whispering and pointing at them as they walked past to the row of lockers.

"British are very odd," one girl whispered loudly.

Peter whirled around. "Just because we don't act like we own the world and we are polite doesn't make us odd!" he retorted.

He slammed his locker shut and continued down the hall. Susan hurried to catch up.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, and Peter nodded.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry so much - you're just like Mu-" he swallowed back the rest. "Never mind," he said quietly.

Susan bit her lip. " I'll see you at lunch, then."

She hurried away as tears threatened to spill.

The only good thing was that at lunchtime they got to sit with each other. The other students ignored them or acted cold and snobbish.

"How come everyone here is so rude?" Edmund demanded, slamming his tray on the table.

Lucy jumped slightly, and Peter put his fork down.

"Let's go" he said suddenly.

They looked up at him, confusion written on their faces.

"Go where?" Susan asked.

"Away from here, let's go somewhere else for our lunch. Do you want to?" he asked them.

They nodded and stood up, heading out of the cafeteria.

"Won't we get in trouble for this?" Susan wondered.

"Why would we, we used to go home for lunch in England?" Peter said, "and we'll be back in time for the rest of school."

Twenty minutes later they were standing on the sidewalk near the subway. Susan pointed to the sign.

"Uptown or downtown?" she asked Peter.

"The orphanage was downtown, remember, I want to see what else is there," he said. "Unless you 'd rather go uptown, I don't care."

They held a hurried conference and decided to go downtown. They went down into the subway station. Downtown was much more interesting than the prestigious uptown Manhattan, there were a mixture of different ethnicities. Several children were gathered around a broken fire hydrant laughing as water sprayed everywhere.

"How come we can't do that?" Lucy asked, looking at the children. She longed to join them.

"High society people don't do that," Susan mimicked Patricia.

They continued on their way, no destination in mind, just walking. People shouted back and forth in different languages. They came to a small restaurant, a delicatessen

"What's a delicatessen?" Edmund wondered.

"You mean you don't know?" a boy in a blue cap asked, munching on an apple. He had two girls with him, both a bit younger than he, and all three children had a dark olive complexion and dark eyes and a very weird accent. He tossed the apple in a nearby trashcan.

"Name's Tony, these are my sisters Genevieve and Carlita."

They introduced themselves and they found the Angelitos to be very nice and were sorry when one-o clock rolled around and they had to go back uptown.

"Come down this Saturday; we're having a party for my oldest sister, Angelita!" Tony said .

Patricia was waiting for them when they got home from school.

"Saturday I want to have a party to introduce you into society," she said.

"But we already were invited to a party, this afternoon," Lucy replied.

"By whom, do I or Brett know them - what are their names and where do they live?" Patricia demanded.

"They live downtown and their name is Angelito and they're -" Peter started to say.

He never got to finish because Patricia slapped him.

"How dare you go downtown and mingle with – with _foreigners_!" she spit the word out, "Saturday you are all four going to be present for the party. I have sacrificed too much to be shunned by society!"

The four of them stood there, looks of shock evident on their faces. Their parents never slapped them. They stood there.

"No," Peter said firmly, " we don't want a party. It isn't fair - we don't like any of those children, they're rude. Why don't let you us choose our friends?"

Patricia opened and closed her mouth looking like a fish; they didn't wait for an answer but just stormed up the stairs up to the room Lucy dubbed "The North Tower."

It was a circular room with a high ceiling and windows, a low window seat tucked under a bay window. This part of the house, unlike the rest of the house, was dark, more like a museum.

"Brett's home," Edmund said, looking out the window.

They crept downstairs to listen to Patricia tell Brett about their behavior.

"I don't see why it's so damn important for us to have a party anyway!" Peter fumed.

His siblings stared at him in shock; he never cursed so he must have been really upset.

"Why don't we just grin and bear it?" Susan suggested. "Like we used to in Narnia, during the balls we didn't particularly like."

They agreed that was the only thing and went downstairs to join Brett and Patricia for dinner. Unfortunately, they weren't alone. Two couples were also seated at the table.

"Children, this is Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Mr. and Mrs. Duncan," Patricia said as Nancy brought in the platter of fish.

"How do you do," they said politely, taking their seats.

"What polite children! Young people can be so impolite wouldn't you agree, George?" Mrs. Clark demanded of her husband.

He nodded although from the look in his eyes he was not paying attention to what his wife said.

"Yes, dear," he said, turning back to Brett and Mr. Duncan.

"Yes, they are polite. This weekend Brett and I have decided to introduce them into society. You and Emily will be present, I hope." Patricia asked, sipping her champagne.

Both ladies gasped in delight.

"Well! Aren't you children grateful; most orphans wouldn't be given such a wonderful opportunity!"

Biting back the retort on their lips they nodded and smiled.

All three ladies put their heads together to plan a party they didn't want, and taking advantage of the situation they slipped out and went into the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

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**Chapter seven**

It turned out that the party was only for Peter and Susan. Edmund and Lucy would not be attending and for that they were glad; the latter, not the former - Peter and Susan were not in the least bit happy.

And when the night of the party rolled around, hey decided the best thing was to do as their father used to say, "Put their best foot forward." Besides, they could do this - they had balls in Narnia and this was no different.

Patricia looked up as they descended the curved stairs. She was holding Brett's arm.

"Now, don't you two look amazing!" she gushed.

Susan wore a dark blue strapless dress, pearl necklace and teardrop earrings.

"I'm very uncomfortable right now," she whispered to Peter.

Peter was wearing a tuxedo and even Susan had to admit he could pull it off. Peter glanced at her feet; to his surprise, Susan was barefoot. The length of her dress hid her feet except when they were going down the steps, and luckily their foster parents were too busy looking up at them to notice Susan's lack of shoes.

In an hour the guests arrived.

Susan's face hurt from smiling politely, the boy she was dancing with was an incredibly boring topic himself, plus he was a terrible dancer. Susan regretted her bare feet.

"Would you mind if we stopped, I'm incredibly tired," Susan said, hoping he'd take the hint and leave to find another girl to dance with. No such luck, for he escorted her back to a chair and continued talking - bragging more like. There was no question, Wilson Chavers the Third was the most egotistical boy she ever had the misfortune of talking to – why, he was worse than Prince Rabadash.

Susan sighed, taking a sip of punch ,wishing the floor would swallow Wilson up.

"Of course we have a very big yacht, perhaps one day you could come on for a sail," Wilson was saying.

Susan stifled a yawn, struggling to keep the bored look off her face, and Wilson stood up.

"Are you ready for another dance?" he didn't give her time to answer, just yanked her up, swinging her onto the dance floor.

They had only been on the dance floor a few minutes when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up to see a boy around Peter's age with curly light brown hair and light blue eyes smiling at her.

"I was wondering if I could cut in," he said to Wilson.

Susan all but launched herself into the boy's arms.

"Thank you!" she said.

The boy smiled - he had a nice smile, sort of crooked in a charming way.

"You looked like you needed rescuing. My name's Geoffrey, call me Geoff," he said.

Susan smiled.

"Well, thank you very much, Joff."

To his credit, Geoff didn't make fun of her pronunciation of his name.

"You're from England," he said, very interested.

Susan nodded. "Finchley, England," she said.

Geoff nodded. "How do you like America so far?" he asked.

Susan told him and he asked her about her family; he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.

"Which one's your brother?" Geoff asked, looking around the room.

Susan gestured toward the refreshment table where a group of girls were gathered around her older brother. They were giggling, but he on the other hand looked very uncomfortable

Girls made Peter very nervous, especially giggly types of girls. There were six of them, all begging him for a dance or to sit next to him.

"Ooh, your accent is so adorable," one of them giggled, a blonde named Esther - her friends called her Essie.

They all giggled after she did. Peter was beginning to wonder if that giggling thing was a chain reaction; he was getting a headache from listening to it for so long. If he could leave his own party he would, but Patricia was watching him and Susan to make sure they didn't duck out early.

He sighed. Adjusting into his High King role, he listened politely, and finally he managed to excuse himself and made his way out the side door. Stepping out onto the balcony, he sighed.

"That bad?" a girl's voice said.

Peter looked over to see a girl sitting on a chair reading a book.

He went over.

"Do you always read at parties?" he asked curiously.

The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and pushed her glasses up.

"Do you always leave your own parties?" she asked.

Peter sat down in the opposite chair.

"I didn't leave my party, not exactly, I just came out to get some air and to get away from those giggling girls. Why are you out here?"

The girl marked her place in her book and sat back.

"I am not a society person. I wouldn't have come only my mother dragged me here and my mother is big on impressions."

"Our foster parents are giving this party for my sister and I to introduce us into society. I'd rather jump off a cliff," Peter admitted. "What's your name?"

"Charlotte Marshall, what's yours?"

"Peter Pevensie," he said.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

"Do you realize you have double consonants? What were your parents thinking - is your sister named Penny or something?" she asked.

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"I'll thank you kindly not to make fun of my name, and her name is Susan if you must know. You know, you are strange."

Charlotte shrugged.

" My mother says the same thing. She wants to know why I'd rather hide up in my room and read instead of going out with nice young men and go to dances or school socials"

Peter nodded knowingly.

"I like reading, in fact I prefer it to this," Peter replied.

"If it were up to me, I'd be at home. You're from England, right?" Charlotte asked.

Peter nodded.

"What are you reading anyway?"

"_A Tale of Two Cities,_" Charlotte said, "have you read it?"

"When I was eleven," Peter replied.

He stood up. "I should go back inside before my foster mother gets upset."

Charlotte turned back to her book

Lucy was in the middle of a good dream when Edmund shook her awake. Lucy rolled over.

"Is it morning, Ed?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"Not exactly. Do you want to see the party?" Edmund replied.

Lucy nodded and sat up. Pulling her robe on, following her brother out of the room and down the hall toward the stairs, they had a perfect view of the party downstairs.

"Ed, do you think they have a wardrobe here?" Lucy asked suddenly.

Edmund shrugged.

"I don't think Americans have wardrobes, I think they're called closets, why?"

Lucy shrugged.

"No reason. Couldn't we go check? This is boring!" she wheedled and pleaded until Edmund gave in.

Around eleven the last of the guests left.

"Who was that boy you were talking to?" Peter asked as they headed upstairs.

"Geoffrey," Susan replied.

"Do you like him?" Peter asked.

Susan shrugged, "Well, he's a lot more polite than that awful Wilson Chavers the Third. And where did you duck off to, oh High King?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nowhere," Peter said, "just outside."

He opened his door.

"Did you meet anyone interesting?" Susan pressed.

"Perhaps," Peter said, about to close the door.

"You'd tell me if you did, wouldn't you, Pete?" she asked.

"You'll get the first wedding invitation. Goodnight, Susan!" Peter replied.

Susan had a smile on her face.

"Goodnight, oh brother of mine."

She floated down the hall, humming.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanksgiving and Grandparents

_**Thanksgiving and Grandparents**_

In three weeks Hudson Academy was going to have their annual Thanksgiving pageant. Auditions were to be held Friday. The four of them had been appointed to paint scenery.

"Of course I would never paint scenery," a boy in Peter's class said loudly, acting like painting scenery was degrading. "No one cares about the scenery, you probably won't even get mentioned in the program."

Everyone laughed.

"Ignore him," Peter said quietly to his siblings.

Emerson wasn't done - once inside the classroom he turned to Peter.

"It's too bad you're not American, because if you were you could audition for a part. But no one wants a Brit in a play about America. Of course you could audition for the part of King James, but you're too wussy to even be a king!" Emerson smiled maliciously, looking to see how everyone appreciated the little joke.

Peter didn't look up from his book but just asked, "What do you think a king does, Emerson?"

Emerson smirked. "Tells people what to do, of course, gives out orders."

Peter snorted, and Emerson whirled on him.

"Fine, British boy - tell us what a king does, as if a wuss like you even knows."

Peter shut his book.

"You think I don't know what a king does? Anyone can be appointed a king, but it takes integrity to make a _good_ king. A good king cares about the subjects in his kingdom; he is there helping them, not just sitting in his palace ordering people about. He hears the people's problems and listens to them - he is an advisor, but he must also listen to his advisors' suggestions. You, Emerson, would make a lousy king."

Everyone was staring at Peter, mouths open, but he ignored them and was relieved when the teacher came in.

"You did what!" Susan cried, passing out the paintbrushes.

Peter took one.

"Stop fussing, I didn't mention Narnia!" he said.

Edmund and Lucy looked at the two of them.

"I just told him what a king did," Peter continued, opening the can of paint.

"What's so special about Thanksgiving?" Edmund asked. "Why have only one day to give thanks - shouldn't that be done every day?"

They could hear some of the students auditions from their vantage; none of it seemed sincere - it was as if the students were only interested in how good they looked and the compliments they would receive.

"Why bother with the whole thing, anyway?" Susan asked.

The day of the play the auditorium was filled with proud family members. They saw Patricia and Brett, and with them was an elderly couple. She had gray hair in a tight bun, not one strand out of place, and she wore a dark skirt with a white frilly collar and broach at the throat. Over the blouse she wore a dark jacket, she carried a gilded walking cane and her face was twisted into a disapproving frown.

He had white hair and wore a suit with a vest. In his pocket was a gold pocket-watch. The principal stood up and welcomed the parents and relatives to the play. They were glad when it was over, but of course they couldn't leave yet since they had to stay and tear down the set.

When they were done they noticed everyone had left the auditorium. Patricia was waiting for them, and she didn't look pleased. They wondered what they did.

"My parents are waiting in the car. Hurry up," she said briskly.

The oak table was set with the best china, crystal goblets, and linen napkins: steaming dishes were centered around a succulent turkey which rested on a bed of rosemary and stuffing.

There were ten guests around the table. The four of them were the only children. Earlier they had been introduced to their grandparents (Edith and Oliver, the elderly couple they had seen yesterday at the school; they had been staying at a hotel). All of the guests were what Patricia called "Well-Known Society People," meaning they were well-respected in the community and had lots of money.

The adults were very patronizing toward them, treating them like lower class citizens, but hiding it behind fake little smiles and questions of interests, pretending to be fascinated in what they had to say. All except one young couple - they seemed genuinely intrigued in what the children were saying when they answered the questions.

As for their "Grandmother," it was easy to tell how she felt about the four of them; she didn't even bother to hide her feelings which soon became evident from the cold way she addressed them. Not by their names, but "Young man" or "Young lady," and by the way she corrected their table manners. Their table manners were fine, except Lucy was slouching a bit. She sat up straighter as the desert was brought in - pies, cakes, and brownies sat on the cart Matilda wheeled in.

"Thank you, Matilda."

Patricia waved the girl away, and she turned to the four of them.

"Why don't you four run along while we adults have dessert and coffee."

She shooed them away. Confused, they stood up and headed into the kitchen and wheedled a dish of dessert from the cook who was more than happy to give them a whole cherry pie. They took it up to the attic, and through the air duct they could hear Patricia and their new Grandmother arguing.

"Orphans! I thought you and Brett were trying to have a child of your own! I will not stand for those ragamuffins being in the house!" Edith fumed.

They didn't wait to hear the rest.

It was cold outside, but inside was even colder. The guests had left over an hour ago, and they were in the parlour trying to remain polite toward their grandmother. They found they liked Oliver; he was warm and considerate and treated them like equals. Edith on the other hand was cold and insulting toward them.

"Sit up straight, didn't your parents teach you anything? I always thought English children would have better manners than that."

Edith whacked Lucy across the knees with her cane, and she moved away from her.

"Young man, you're the eldest - what do you plan on doing once you finish school and college? You are planning on college or do you plan on spending all my son's money?" she said suddenly, focusing on Peter.

"Yes, I plan on college and I'm going to be a doctor," he answered smoothly.

"Hmmph, doctors, useless people - I say what do they know. You, young lady, how old are you?" she asked Susan.

"Fourteen, why?" Susan asked.

"Don't ask questions. What do you plan on doing?" Edith asked.

Susan sighed.

"I plan to go to college and marry and start a family."

Edith stood up and left the parlour.

"How's your knee, Luce?" Edmund asked.

Lucy blinked back tears of pain and smiled a watery little smile.

"It hurts a bit; I don't like her at all!"

They all agreed with her, what sort of family was this?


	9. Chapter 9

Etiquette Lessons

_**Etiquette Lessons**_

The next day when they went downstairs for breakfast, they saw a woman sitting at the head of the table. Her thin mouth was drawn into a tight line, the corners turned down, her brown hair was pulled back and her eyes were icy grey.

"Sit down," she ordered.

Confused, they sat down.

"My name is Mrs. Mitzer and your foster mother has appointed me to teach you four lessons in etiquette. We will start with table manners."

The maids brought in the food.

"Take your napkins and place them in your lap," she instructed.

"We know that; we're not exactly uncouth!" Peter said.

"Young man, don't contradict - and you, sit up," she ordered Edmund, who was sort of slouched in his seat.

He sat up.

"Both feet must remain flat on the floor and if you do not reach the floor, your feet must remain still; swinging one's feet is very bad manners. Only take a small amount of food - one does not want to make a pig of oneself."

She waited until they had taken some food before continuing.

"One does not wash ones meal with their drink; take tiny sips in between each bite. What do you think you're doing, young lady!" she cried, suddenly noticing Lucy had just picked up her bacon with her hands.

"Use your fork, we are not uncivilised animals!" Mrs. Mitzer said.

"But I always eat bacon with my hands!" Lucy protested.

"Everyone does!" Edmund added in her defense.

"Didn't I just get finished telling your brother not to contradict me?" she asked Edmund.

Peter and Susan looked at her, and then at their younger siblings.

"He wasn't contradicting you," Susan said under her breath.

Mrs.Mitzer didn't hear her, for she was too busy ordering Lucy to stop wriggling in her seat. Unfortunately Lucy hated sitting still and it was very uncomfortable to have to sit so still.

They thought as soon as breakfast was over they would be free of Mrs. Mitzer, but they were wrong. Patricia informed them that she would be staying with them for a while.

"Why? Who is she?" Peter demanded.

"She's a former governess and she has taught children - she has agreed to teach you four etiquette," Patricia said. "She was recommended by my mother and she is very well respected and sought out, she is doing us a favor."

_More like doing _you_ a favour,_ they thought to themselves. Patricia didn't seem to notice the scowls on their faces or if she did she chose to ignore them. Mrs.Mitzer walked in.

"Idle hands are the devil's tools," she recited. "It's time for your next lesson in etiquette," she said, snatching the book from Peter's hands.

"Sit up, we do not recline when we have lessons," she told Susan, who was curled up on the sofa. "Good manners are important in any society, but especially in a society such as this one. We will practice sitting," she said.

They bit back laughter, then realized she was dead serious. Nothing they did was right. They didn't sit up straight enough; she prodded them in the back with a stick she had seemingly produced out of nowhere, and even if they let themselves slouch just the tiniest fraction, she was there.

Lunch time was even worse than breakfast, for Edith joined them and all three women spent the entire lunch hour criticizing and correcting their table manners.

"One does not pick out food that is displeasurable."

"Elbows off the table."

"Sit up straight."

"Direct your spoon away from you."

_Do this, do that, don't do that, don't do this,_ until they were ready to scream in frustration. Even their parents hadn't corrected them this much. None of them ate very much, and that prompted Edith to criticize that too.

"I have never seen more ungrateful children in my life, such wastefulness!"

She shook her head. They forced themselves to eat everything on their plates and were glad when Patricia excused them from the table.

It wasn't as if they had bad manners, but Patricia, Edith, and Mrs. Mitzer acted as if they had no manners whatsoever - as if they were as uncivilized as wild beasts. They had been royalty, for goodness sakes!

They escaped outside; the world covered in a white blanket of snow, and even though it was colder outside, they didn't care. Suddenly Lucy let out a huge shout and threw a snowball at Edmund. He retaliated by throwing one back, but it hit Susan in the face. Soon they were having an all-out snowball fight, shrieking and laughing.

They hadn't had this much fun in months. It felt good to just be children; Patricia was turning them into little society children, which they hated. It wasn't the same as learning how to rule a country when they governed Narnia, they were basically on their own there. Oh, they had advisors such as Oreius, but basically they made the decisions. Here Patricia was making all the decisions and suffocating them.

"What do you think you're doing!" Patricia hissed loudly, standing on the stone steps. "People might see you and what will the neighbours say if they say you out here acting like_ children!_" She spat the word out.

"I don't know, but it's really none of their business since we _are_ children," Peter said, a note of indifference in his voice.

Patricia looked at them.

"How dare you, you ungrateful little urchins! I took you in. You have the best things money can buy; good school, clothes, you each have your own room - what more do you want?" she demanded.

Peter dropped the snowball and looked at her for a long while, then said in a voice he barely recognized.

"You want to know what we _want_. Why don't you ask us what we need. We need a mother. We need a father. We need parents who don't care more about their career or how they look in society papers, we need a mother who isn't trying to force us into what we're not or never want to be. We need someone to love us, we need someone who listens to us - listens to our problems and guides us. We need parents who love us unconditionally, not a mother who is trying to turn us into little mannequins that smile all the time."

No one spoke, then Patricia said in a voice as cold as the snow falling around them.

"I am not your mother."

"Thank Aslan for that, you'd make a horrible mother," Peter said.

Patricia turned pale then red, and flounced back in the mansion.

"Peter, what came over you?" Susan asked, shocked.

"Wow, I never heard Peter ever be disrespectful to a grown up before, even if she did deserve it!" Edmund said in awe.

Lucy was staring at her older brother; Peter for his part was just standing there.

"What did I just do?" he asked, seemingly in a small shock

"You sort of told Patricia she was a horrid mother," Susan said.

"Did I?" Peter asked. "Oh."

He walked back toward the house. Susan and Edmund exchanged a look, then Edmund grabbed Lucy's hand and all three children ran to catch up with their older brother.

"Peter, are you all right?" Susan asked.

"Yes. No..I don't know, maybe."

He shook his head - the only thing running through his mind right now was_ She's going to toss us out onto the streets. What have I done?_ He had promised his mother he'd look after them.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I am picking up "New Life " again with some changes made to the story First and foremost,both foster parents are now no longer in the picture. Two: The children are now homeless (Makes for great drama).Three : this part is going to be told from Susan's pov . Starts right after they have run away from their latest foster home. Reads like a diary. **

**A New Life Part two**

I hate this city,no one seems to care about us. They don't seem to notice us. We could be dying and they just walk past us. How did we end up here. Well it's a long story . After Brett and Patricia decided they didn't want us we were bounced from foster home to foster home . The last one we were in,they left us . We ran away before the police could come and put us in yet another foster home. We had one hundred and twenty dollars to spend we bought four train tickets which were more expensive than we thought . We had twenty dollars ,then some jerk robbed us,so now were broke. We have no food and no where to sleep tonight.

We're sitting in a diner outisde it's nightfall . The diner is mostly empty ,which is probably why the manager hasn't kicked us out after all,she's probably bored with no customers to serve . I sigh and run my fingers over the torn leather of the booth were sitting in. All around us are the smells of food and I want so badly to eat something we haven't eaten in awhile.

"I'm hungry" Lucy says trying not to look at the elderly couple behind us,they have just finished a dinner of steak,mashed potatoes with lashing of gravy,biscuits( They're not cookies either,here in America biscuits mean something different) and apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream. I think Edmund and Lucy would have jumped over the booth if it meant that they'd get a hot meal.

"Shh." I said,I didn't want anyone asking us questions . I pushed a packet of crackers over to them. "Share it." I told Edmund as Peter and I slipped out of the booth so we can talk privately . We found a secluded booth,where we could also see Edmund and Lucy.

"What are we going to do?" I asked looking at Peter,"We can't live like this."

"Would you rather go back to another foster home ,I know how Mister Chatham looked at you." Peter said,I shivered and shook my head ."No,you know I don't,but Peter,we have no money which means we have no food and we have no where to go."

"Su,please,trust me,I promised Mum,I'd look after all of you and I will,I promise,I will." Peter said earnestly."I'll find a job,I can work,I don't care what I do ,I'll do it."

I sighed,it wasn't that I didn't trust Peter because I did I truly did,but I wasn't sure about his plan. Who was going to hire a fourteen year old runaway with three younger siblings ,they would just call the police and we'd be back in foster care.

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The next day it was even hotter than the day before . We've been walking for miles and Lucy feels like a dead weight on my back. I am ready to drop down on this pavement and I would too if it weren't so far we have found nowhere to stay. We must look awful and people keep staring at us with suspicious looks on their faces as if we have no right to be here .

We need food and new clothes,the clothes we are wearing are filthy and wrinkled,but there is just one problem,we have no money and no way to obtain money,we could beg of course,but even we aren't that standing at a grocery store,we need food ,Edmund and Lucy look faint with hunger .There's only one thing to do and it's not right not right at all,but what choice do we have? Everyone seems to look right through us as they walk past us.

The grocery store feels so nice after being outside in the hot sun. It's brightly lit and there's music coming from some invisible speakers ,there's also cameras everywhere,so I have to be careful as I take items from shelves and slip them in my backpack . I walk toward the front of the store and pray that no one stops me ,lucky for me ,no one looks my way and I make it out the door.

I join my siblings on the sidewalk and we leave the front of the store quickly,once we're safely away. We need to find somewhere safe to sleep tonight and sleeping outside is not an option . We round a corner and suddenly it's there the perfect place to stay .It's a old mansion that's been abondened . Peter and I run over to investigate . There are no signs condemning it,so we wave Edmund and Lucy over and we spend our second night in an old abondened house .

**A/N: Yes,I'm back and I will try to put in new chapters if I get at least five reviews . So please R&R**


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